part0024

Evie made eye contact with Tom and gestured toward Penelope. A series of exchanged eyebrow movements later and Tom, who sat next to Penelope, reluctantly leaned in. However, at that precise moment, Penelope finished reading the message. Folding it, she slipped it inside its envelope.

“Good news, I hope,” Evie said.

“No, I’m afraid not.” Penelope took a long sip of her coffee. “It is so disappointing when people let you down.”

And yet… She didn’t look disappointed. Glancing at Tom, Evie tried to interpret his sl ightly raised eyebrow look. “Don’t leave us hanging.”

“Oh,” Penelope sighed. “It’s nothing really. I devoted a great deal of my time to selecting a new wardrobe for the season and now my dressmaker tells me nothing will be ready on time. This is such a letdown. Of course, I will not be using her services again.”

“She must have had a very good reason,” Evie remarked. Although, in her opinion, once a promise had been made and delivery dates agreed upon, it would be in her best interest to satisfy her customer.

“Perhaps, but she didn’t offer one. I shall now have to rush to town and make other arrangements. This is such an inconvenience and the timing could not have been worse. How can I possibly leave when your lives are still in danger?”

“We’ll try to keep ourselves alive while you’re away,” Bicky offered.

“I wouldn’t want you to think I’m bailing out on you.” Penelope looked at him, her eyes expressing her gratitude. “Do you think I could be driven to the station?”

“Yes, of course. Larkin will see to it.”

Excusing herself, Lady Penelope left on her rescue mission.

“Remind me again who she is,” Tom whispered.

“Penelope is married to the eldest son of the Earl of Remington, which means she will one day be a Countess.”

“Not any time soon,” Bicky remarked. “The Earl enjoys extremely good health. That’s not to say Penelope resents him for it. Did that sound odd?” Bicky didn’t wait for anyone to respond. “I think it did sound rather odd and it might have to do with my growing cynicism about marriage.” Looking around the table, he apologized. “I hope I haven’t ruined your breakfast.”

Mark Harper set his newspaper down. “No worse than what we read every morning. I suppose happy stories don’t sell newspapers.”

“As the eldest son of an Earl myself,” Matthew, Lord Chambers, mused, “I don’t think you are being cynical, Bicky. I’m sure I’ve been accused of champing at the bit but I’m in no hurry to step into my father’s shoes and Charlotte is quite content to spend the time honing her skills. It’s no easy task being at the helm of a large household. Wouldn’t you agree, Evie?”

“I can’t really say. Nicholas had already been an Earl when I married him. I had no choice but to jump in at the deep end.” And, if anyone had resented her advantageous marriage, they had certainly not taken any drastic steps. Belatedly, she wondered if Matthew had meant to steer the subject away from unfaithful spouses. She would swear Bicky had meant to imply as much when he’d referred to his cynicism.

“Would anyone care to go out riding today?” Bicky asked.

Both Matthew and Mark accepted the invitation just as Charles, Viscount Maison, strode in and helped himself to some breakfast.

“Count me in,” Charles said. “We’ll be moving targets, so we should be fine.”

Bicky looked at Evie and Tom. “Will you be joining us?”

Evie hadn’t made any definite plans for the day but she didn’t want to commit to a horse ride without first discussing their lack of success during the previous night’s search with Tom. “We’d love to. However, I have some errands to run. In fact, the sooner we get started, the better.”

“They must be important errands,” Matthew observed.

“To me, yes.” Evie gave him a brisk smile. “I’m keen to find out if anyone has a new litter.”

“You’re looking for a dog?” Bicky asked.

“Yes, I might be. I’m sure I want one. Actually, I think I should have one. I don’t know why it never occurred to get one before.”

“Because your mother suffers from allergies,” Tom reminded her.

“Oh, yes… That’s right.” Evie looked around the table. “I always try to avoid pointing th e finger of blame at my mother for fear I might come across as being ungrateful.”

“I will ask around for you,” Bicky offered. “Someone is bound to be looking to place their puppies in a good home.”

“Well, since the rest of the ladies have yet to make an appearance, I’ll wait for final numbers before sending word to the stables,” Bicky said. “Will you be joining us for dinner?”

Evie looked at Tom, although she had no idea why she did so. “Yes, of course. We’ll be here.” It suddenly occurred to ask, “Are we likely to hear back from the Sergeant?”

Bicky nodded. “I trust the local authorities will inform us of any new developments.”

Charles snorted. “I only hope there are some of us left to hear the news.”

Tom gave a small shrug. “Yesterday I suggested trying to determine what you have in common with Bicky. We never got around to figuring that out.”

Evie slipped her leather gloves on and adjusted her hat. “You’re right. We didn’t get very far with that. I remember I’d been obsessed with something Charlotte said about Clara.” And that had led her to suggest they search her room for anything that might serve as evidence. Evie shook her head. “I’m still thinking about Clara. What if she’s up to something?” Evie almost wished that were true. Bicky certainly deserved better.

“Aren’t Dukes supposed to have children?” Tom asked.

“They sure are. The more, the better. Or, at least, as Consuelo Vanderbilt put it, an heir and a spare. Preferably male. You heard the Dowager Duchess. If anything happens to Bicky, his cousin thrice removed inherits.”

They both stopped and stared at each other.

“It would be unthinkable,” Evie remarked.

“But not impossible. What do you know about the heir?”

“Alexander Fleshling,” Evie murmured.

“That’s it? His name?”

“Give me a moment. I’m thinking out loud. I have met him. Bicky had him over before I returned to America. There had been another heir ahead of him, but he died during the war. If I remember correctly, he fell off his horse and broke his neck. Anyhow… Usually, with heirs so far removed, you tend to find they are ensconced in some sort of profession, medicine or the law, because they have to make a living.” She tilted her head up as if seeking divine inspiration. But nothing new came to her. “We’ll have to ask Bicky. I’d be surprised if he ’s even kept in regular touch. He’s still young.”

Tom leaned against the motor car and stared at her. “Do you really have errands to run?”

“I do now. I’d like to know what was in Penelope’s telegram.”

“I guess you have reason to believe she hid the true contents from you.”

The Penelope she knew would have shown her the telegram and made a big deal out of it. Instead, it had been folded and returned to the envelope as if for safekeeping.

“So, how do you propose going about it?” Tom asked.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to stop by the telegraph office. The post mistress is rather lovely.” Seeing Tom’s eyes widening as if in disbelief, Evie rolled her eyes. “I see, you’re not in favor of the idea.”

Tom brushed his hand across his chin. “I’m curious to know how you would convince a post mistress to reveal what is possibly confidential information. I’m sure there is some sort of law or code of conduct in place about such things.”

“Well, then… Perhaps we should drive to London and go to the Criterion. Who knows, if we sit there long enough we might encounter the Duchess and if we’re really lucky, we might overhear a plot to do away with Bicky.”

“That sounds like a plan. If we leave right now, I’m sure we’ll arrive before lunch.”

“In case you’re wondering, yes, I am surprised to hear you agree with me. Don’t you find the idea of the Duchess being somehow responsible rather ludicrous.” Evie had already crossed her off the list because she didn’t believe Clara would risk her freedom but she kept finding reasons for suspecting her again…

Tom shrugged. “Women in love have been known to do bizarre things.”

“Did you feel that strongly about the telegraph office being a dead-end?” Evie asked when Tom drove right through the village.

“Are you trying to accuse me of having no faith in your abilities?” Tom asked in return.

Evie crossed her arms. “Well, as a matter of fact, I think I did rather well to discover the source of Miss Wainscot’s rash.” She had even surprised herself. She had no idea where she had learned to be so methodical or persistent.

“True,” Tom said. “In fact, you did very well. I am impressed.”

Evie grinned. “Why, thank you, kind sir. But why did you wait until now to tell me?”

“I’m sure I mentioned it.”

Yes, he had. But his ‘well done’ remark had sounded almost absentminded.

When he stopped at the train station, Evie frowned at him. “What are we doing here?”

“How far do you think this roadster will get us? It’s nearly two hundred miles to London.”

London? “You’re serious.”

“You suggested it.”

Yes, but she hadn’t thought he would take her seriously. “We drove here, so I assumed... Oh, I don’t know. How did we manage it?”

“In the larger car with extra canisters of gasoline and with a couple of suppliers along the way, that’s how. And, let me tell you, this is not America. Those suppliers are few and far between. Anyhow, what did you think I was doing every time we stopped?”

Evie blushed. Every time they’d stopped, she’d actually closed her eyes because she’d thought Tom had needed to answer the call of nature…

Evie lifted her chin and looked ahead. “Never mind all that. If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the train.”

They strode the short distance, purchased their tickets and only had to wait a few minutes for the train to arrive.

As they were about to step into the First-Class compartment, Tom gave Evie an encouraging push.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lady Penelope,” Tom said. “She’s boarding the same train. I guess she’s serious about sorting out her wardrobe. ”

Evie peered out the window.

“She’s in the next carriage.” Tom checked his watch. “Why didn’t she just telephone her dressmaker?”

“Perhaps because she’d like to organize someone else. Penelope is quite unforgiving. I’ve heard people refer to her as a quiet mouse who roars.”

“Interesting,” Tom mused.

Shrugging, he said, “I wonder what triggers her sharp temperament.”

Evie sat back and gave it some thought only to find herself thinking about Tom. He looked quite comfortable sitting opposite her.

If this had been the first time he’d traveled in first class, she would imagine he’d want to look around and see what he’d been missing out on. Come to think of it, he’d looked quite comfortable and confident when they’d visited Hainsley Hall.

There had been absolutely nothing to suggest he’d felt awkward.

Whenever she’d traveled to a new house with her maid, Caro, she’d noticed Caro looking around as if dazed by the sight of it all. Caro had almost grown up in large houses so she was used to it all. Even if the downstairs experience differed from that of the upstairs life, she was no stranger to the sight of a large house with all its extravagant furnishings and art works. And yet… she remained in awe of it all.

“Have you thought about what I said earlier?” Tom asked.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to remind me. I can’t remember the last time I had to juggle so many thoughts at once. What with pretending I needed to run errands and looking for a dog I might or might not want and you bringing us to the station instead of stopping at the village… So, what else am I supposed to be thinking about?”

“What you might have in common with Bicky. We should still assume you are both targets. Why would someone want both of you out of the way? Who would stand to profit from that?”

Before she could compose a decent response, they were on their way. Evie looked out the window and watched the station disappear.

Tom cleared his throat. “I recall the Dowager Duchess saying you should have called her mama. Was there ever anything serious between you and the Duke?”

“The Dowager might have thought so… at the time. I suppose it might have been an easy assumption to make. It’s… It’s a long story.”

“And we have plenty of time.”

Evie shifted. “Well… I suppose you could say I made a grand entrance. At the time, it wo uld have been a big deal to have me as a house guest. Remember, I was a debutante.”

He nodded. “I think what you mean to say is that you were an heiress. In other words, you were loaded.”

“That too. Anyway, you’ve seen what it’s like. When someone of note arrives at a large house, they usually organize quite a welcoming committee. From memory, the entire household had come out to greet me and they usually only do that for someone above an Earl or a Duke. Bicky had only recently become a Duke. Much had been expected of him and there I was, young, eligible and, as you pointed out, loaded.” She’d been gracious and as polite as she could have been but the moment she had set eyes on Nicholas…

He hadn’t been among the welcoming party. Evie remembered retiring to her room to change after her long journey. Caro had been sent up to help her dress and they’d formed an instant connection.

Frowning, Evie remembered Clara had attended that house party. Sitting up, she stared at Tom.

Clara had arrived the day before and, according to Caro, she had been instantly smitten by the young Earl of Woodridge. At the time, Evie had been overwhelmed by so many titles. She’d been a mere Miss, fresh off the boat, while all the other debutantes had hailed from the grandest houses in England.

Evie shook her head. “No, if Clara had meant to do anything, she would have taken action back then.”

Tom smiled at her. “I think you need to fill me in on the rest. That sounded like the tail end of a conversation you had in your head.”

“I suppose if I had to try and join the dots, I would say Clara resents me because I landed the man she wanted and the man she ended up with had been focused on winning me. Yes, Bicky had been interested.”

Tom held her gaze for a long moment, and then he said, “I see.”

“But it wouldn’t make sense to wait all this time to do something about it.”

“Wouldn’t it? Back then, she might not have had the resources or the necessary female wiles to take action. Try to put yourself in her shoes. What would she do now that she couldn’t do back then?”

Evie tipped her hat down to cover her eyes. She didn’t want to think about this anymore. She couldn’t. “Clara would have far too much to lose. She’d never risk landing in prison.” But she could afford to pay someone else to do her bidding, Evie thought.

“Tell me about her. Is she the type to influence people easily? Does she have an entourage of admirers? A lover? You’ve all hinted as much.”

“Are you suggesting someone else might have done the deed for her?”

Tom shrugged. “It’s possible.”

Evie put on her best snooty tone and said, “Oh, darling. I have this pesky problem. It’s really nothing but it would mean a great deal to me if someone were to take care of it for me.”